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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24416089">Thirty-Two Wishes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/pseuds/Letterblade'>Letterblade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All Feelings No Porn, Domestic Fluff, Happy Birthday Mercedes, Multi, alternate universe - d/s verse, dom!Annette, dom!Sylvain, sub!Mercedes, sub!felix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:08:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24416089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/pseuds/Letterblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercedes folds the comb aside and scrubs her eyes. Annie must have planned this hoping to sweep her away entirely, make her birthday something undeniably happy. No doubt in cahoots with Sylvain, who just likes any excuse to spoil her, trying so earnestly to pay back a debt that he still doesn’t quite realize he doesn’t have to. Maybe someday, she hopes, he’ll realize that he saved her too.</p>
<p>She smooths her hair down and straightens her nightgown and drifts back out to the wafting aroma of tea.</p>
<p>It's the first time Mercedes has had a birthday since the four of them have settled into their household, and they have plans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier/Mercedes von Martritz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DS-Verse FE3H Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thirty-Two Wishes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy birthday fic for Mercedes von Martriz, late but still before midnight in my time zone at least!</p>
<p>This fic takes place in and is inspired by the d/s-verse AU created by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare">dustofwarfare</a> for the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654516">Imperative</a> series, though it doesn't share the same characters and relationships, just the same general concept. Also this particular fic is 95% domestic fluff; the D/s is a backdrop.</p>
<p>Here’s the standard note/disclaimer about this AU: This fic and others in this 'verse are predicated on the idea there's a biological imperative to fulfill dominance/submission urges (including some sadism/masochism) and might trip some sensitivities because of it. It's not intended to be either dub-con or non-con, so it's not tagged that way, but if you're sensitive to the whole "biological need to submit/dominate" thing, keep this in mind.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Mercedes blurs awake to the mattress dipping, hard, a blur of voices, and the smell of fresh-brewed berry tea. A big warm hand ruffling through her bedhead—that, at least, is perfectly, achingly, familiar, and she nuzzles into it with a sleepy hum.</p>
<p class="p1">“Happy birthday, babe,” comes Sylvain’s voice. It is odd, she thinks dimly, that he’s up before her—he’s usually the last to rise. A small weight lands on her other side with a <em>mrrt</em>. “Cat number six agrees.”</p>
<p class="p1">“That one’s Bellona,” Felix mutters in reflexive correction. “Uh. This might be easier if you roll over?”</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes blinks as the world comes into proper focus. Morning sunlight paints the bed. Sylvain, unshaven and in his sleeping pants, all rumpled and delicious, kisses her head and coaxes her to sit up. Felix—well, she doesn’t quite have a moment to take in Felix before a blur in a pink dressing gown rushes past him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Happy birthday, Mercie!” Annette squeals, and lands on her with a fwump, making Bellona retract with an offended chip.</p>
<p class="p1">“Care—ful—” Felix blurts, and manages not to spill his tray.</p>
<p class="p1">Annette is a little pile of ruffles and curling and enthusiastic love on top of her, planting little kisses all over her face, and—</p>
<p class="p1">“Careful,” Sylvain says also. “Like we love her, but her morning breath is foul.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh—yes—” Annie pulls back, beaming, then her face falls. “Oh, no, I didn’t think about that! Do you want to get up and brush your teeth before breakfast, Mercie?”</p>
<p class="p1">Breakfast, she thinks, and rubs some sleep sand out of her eyes, and fully registers that Felix is carrying a tray. “Oh,” she says. There’s a stack of griddle cakes, jam and butter, a little bowl of yoghurt. And tea, of course. “Oh, dear.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s okay,” Sylvain says. “They used <em>strategy</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Strategy,” Mercedes echoes. She <em>is</em> a little slow in the mornings, maybe, but none of these three are much use in the kitchen, sad to say.</p>
<p class="p1">“Annette read off the recipe card and Felix did exactly what she said because he’s such a <em>good boy</em> for her,” Sylvain says with a grin, and reaches out to ruffle Felix, which <em>might</em> be a bad idea when he’s carrying a tray.</p>
<p class="p1">“Fuck you,” says Felix, without heat, and <em>still</em> manages not to spill it. “Look. I’m just going to put this on the nightstand unless any of you chuckleheads has a better idea, so she can actually.” He pauses, blinking at her with a lingering hint of his usual morning pliability. “Wake up. Uh. Happy birthday, I guess.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But it really worked!” Annie rolls halfway off of her, then gets distracted for a moment with greeting Bellona. “I tried one and it was perfect. You did so well, Felix!” She gives him a peck on the cheek once he’s set the tray down, and Felix Fraldarius, terrifying swordsman, duke, and misanthrope, blushes and ducks his head, hair sliding over the flower-studded sky-blue collar around his neck.</p>
<p class="p1">Sylvain’s hand slides under Mercedes’ shoulders, big and strong and bare against her rumpled nightgown, and—well, he doesn’t exactly pick her up wholesale, she’s too tangled in the sheets, and he doesn’t really have the leverage for it, but he’s still helping her out of bed. “You’re spoiling me,” she murmurs, ducking her head into his shoulder.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah,” Sylvain rumbles beneath her, and his morning stubble rubs fondly against her head. “That’s the idea.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You do so much for all of us all the time!” Annie puts in. “You’re so sweet and caring and always thinking of other people, and we all love you so much. So we’ve decided to make sure you have the best happiest most relaxing birthday <em>ever</em>. We’ll do <em>all</em> the chores, and make sure you get delicious things to eat, and you won’t even have to walk or put on clothes if you don’t want, and we’ll all give you massages all over and a birthday spanking and as many orgasms as you could possibly want!”</p>
<p class="p1">“And a few more to grow on.” Sylvain squiggles his other arm under her knees, scooting her closer so he can actually get the leverage. “You more than deserve it, my very special lady. And also,” he adds, with a mischievous wink, “because we say so, sweet girl.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll help,” Felix says, not meeting her eyes, which is very sweet by Felix standards. Annie folds a small hand over the back of his neck, and he relaxes a little with a subliminal noise. Sylvain kisses Mercedes’ forehead, and she feels herself pink.</p>
<p class="p1">“You really,” she starts, and fumbles to a stop, chest aching. “This is…you really don’t have to.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Sure, but we want to,” Felix says bluntly, which—yes, he does have a point, he doesn’t do much he doesn’t want to, and it had taken them months to figure out how to be friends, never mind for him to be comfortable enough to show her his rare kindnesses.</p>
<p class="p1">“Let’s get you ready, sweet pea,” Sylvain murmurs, and finally gets her snuggled properly into his arms, swinging her off the bed into a princess carry as she squeaks. She can feel his muscles working—she’s rounder than she used to be, after all—and holds on snug around his shoulders to help.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well,” she manages, when he’s halfway to the small room with her feet dangling. “I can still pee by myself, dear.”</p>
<p class="p1">Sylvain laughs, big enough to jostle her a little, and carries her the rest of the way to the door, then sets her very carefully on her feet, kisses the top of her head, and squeezes her butt. She giggles, reaches up to boop his nose, and lets herself into the small room.</p>
<p class="p1">“Gross,” says Felix fondly, and she hears a muffled <em>Felix, don’t be mean</em> from Annie as she closes the door.</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes cleans her teeth and relieves herself, caught in a gently bewildered haze. This really is all very much, she thinks vaguely. She can hear their voices, a little too muffled to make out, all three of them. Her dearest new family.</p>
<p class="p1">Last year…well, last year, they’d been in the hustle-bustle of moving and deciding how to put their households together, and Sylvain had taken her out for dinner and lavished a giddy amount of attention on her, and Annie had done the same thing a few days later, and Felix had been busy unpacking boxes and figuring out how to be comfortable around her. Sylvain and Felix hadn’t even figured themselves out yet—she remembers that because half of that dinner conversation with Annie had been talking her out of meddling, out of just ordering Felix to go serve Sylvain, because she didn’t think that would go very well, all things considered…</p>
<p class="p1">Also she’s usually a little maudlin on her birthday.</p>
<p class="p1">She combs out her elf-knots, slow and careful, studying herself in the mirror. Not something she usually bothers with, but well…a year, just about, in this house. The late spring light is lovely in the morning. She hasn’t changed much, really. Softened a bit about her cheeks, maybe. Her hair needs a trim.</p>
<p class="p1">It’s easy to get lost in the past when she’s counting years. Celebrating this so intensely seems a little much, but—</p>
<p class="p1">Annie knows.</p>
<p class="p1">They hadn’t even known each other that well then, back in her first term at the school in Fhirdiad. She’d made the Martritz family sweet buns in the shared kitchen in this cold new north, ached for the trees to finish putting out their leaves, ached for home and Mother and Emile and the church, felt listless and adrift. Her study partner, tiny, insistent, had found her curled next to a window where she thought nobody would notice, crying a little. <em>It’s just that it’s my birthday, and it’s…a lot of things have happened…</em></p>
<p class="p1">Annie knows.</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes folds the comb aside and scrubs her eyes. Annie must have planned this hoping to sweep her away entirely, make her birthday something undeniably happy. No doubt in cahoots with Sylvain, who just likes any excuse to spoil her, trying so earnestly to pay back a debt that he still doesn’t quite realize he doesn’t have to. Maybe someday, she hopes, he’ll realize that he saved her too.</p>
<p class="p1">She smooths her hair down and straightens her nightgown and drifts back out to the wafting aroma of tea.</p>
<p class="p1">Annette is sitting on the bed, petting Felix; Felix is sitting on the floor, petting Bellona, who has colonized his lap to purr madly. Sylvain is standing with the morning light setting every bit of chest hair on fire, holding a length of red ribbon in his hands that makes her heart trip faster. They’re all…so beautiful.</p>
<p class="p1">“Any time you like,” he says as her eyes drop to the ribbon in his hands, voice a little quiet and rough the way it gets when he’s really earnest. Then he winks. “But I’ll warn you, we’re not gonna let you go until it’s bedtime.”</p>
<p class="p1">She feels an entirely unpracticed smile bubbling up. “I think I’d like to eat before it gets all cold. And pray a little first, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of course,” Sylvain says easily, and leaves the ribbon on the nightstand. “I’ll go, ah, shed the caveman look.” He scratches his stubble and makes to saunter to the bathroom, but Mercedes holds up a hand, and he stops, tilting his head.</p>
<p class="p1">“I picked the lemon and ricotta ones from your recipe box,” Annie pipes up. “They’re still good even cool. Because I didn’t know how much they’d cool down when we carried them upstairs, and…well, I didn’t think the rest through but…”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Mercedes says, and catches Sylvain’s hand in hers, then reaches for Annie’s, and sinks to her knees between them, just for a moment, with the little dizzy rush that always comes with that for her. She kisses Sylvain’s big knuckles, then kisses Annie’s tiny ones. “Thank you. You must have been planning this for a while.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Maybe a little,” says Annie, beaming pink-cheeked. It’s been more than a year since they finally crossed that old fuzzy line and first kissed, and she still gets a little pinked up when she remembers that Mercie is <em>hers</em>, it’s adorable.</p>
<p class="p1">“Nah,” says Sylvain. “Didn’t talk about it at all. Would never have crossed our minds.”</p>
<p class="p1">Felix doesn’t say anything as he reduces Bellona to a purring puddle, not until Mercedes leans over and kisses his cheek, and then he makes a stuttery noise in the back of his throat and also pinks slightly. “Yeah,” he says, and headbutts her shoulder gently.</p>
<p class="p1">“Is this…something you want?” Sylvain asks, pretty quietly, squeezing her hand a little.</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s…” She looks up and up at him, and has to blink a little damp out of her eyes. He’s come so far. They all have. “It’s a lot for me to want,” she admits, frank and small.</p>
<p class="p1">Sylvain raises his eyebrows for a moment as he considers that, then says, “Hey, Felix, you’re closer, wanna check something for me?”</p>
<p class="p1">“What,” says Felix, with a look that very much says that if it involves moving the cat, all bets are off.</p>
<p class="p1">Annette cottons on faster, and reaches out to brush her cool little fingertips over Mercedes’ chest, feeling her nipples tightening under her nightgown, almost aching. She beams up at Sylvain. “I think her titties want it!”</p>
<p class="p1">Sylvain cups her cheek in one warm hand. “And I can see her pretty eyes going all dark.” He squeezes her hand again, then tugs her to her feet in one easy pull. “We’re giving it to you, babe.” He ducks in for a kiss, mouth on mouth now that she isn’t all gross. “Now eat your pancakes,” he says, and tweaks a nipple to make her squeak. “And I’ll go get the caveman fuzz off my face.”</p>
<p class="p1">She blushes and eats her pancakes, which are <em>delicious</em>, and Felix actually smiles a little when she says that, and smiles again when Annie chirps happily about how well he did and promises him a nice caning later. Because rewards are backwards for Felix compared to most people; it had taken Annette a little bit to figure that out, but once she had, they’d gotten into a <em>very</em> nice rhythm of housework and caning.</p>
<p class="p1">She stands to face the north, where the Blue Sea Star will rise, and folds her hands to pray. For all those who are lost. For the health and happiness of her new household. For those in need in this world recovering from war. A turn to the west, a prayer to different gods, for Duscur. A turn to the south, a message to faraway spirits, for Brigid. A turn to the east, in gratitude to the earth, for Almyra.</p>
<p class="p1">Somewhere near the end, as she’s taking a moment to consider her life and Sylvain has come up to quietly lean with an arm around her, as he often does these days even if he never prays himself, it hits her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Dear goddess,” she blurts. “I’m thirty-two.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yup!” Annette says. “Thirty-two spankies! Oh! Sorry, are you finished?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” Mercedes says, laughing a little. “Yes, I think so. I’d just forgotten how old I was.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, you don’t look a day over twenty-five,” Sylvain says. Sylvain who’s coming up on thirty soon and is a little panicked about it. Mercedes has found her thirties a <em>serious</em> improvement over her twenties, all things considered, and has done her best to reassure him.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” she says sweetly, and goes on her tip-toes to peck her cheek.</p>
<p class="p1">“And I’ll be saying it when you’re fifty.” He strokes her hair. “You ready for your ribbon, sweet girl?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I…yes. Yes, please.” She takes a deep, steadying breath as his hand slides down her side, squeezing the curve of her hips appreciatively. He turns her, walks her back to the bed where the ribbon’s waiting on the nightstand, where Annie has braided Felix’s hair as he’s stuck under the now dozing Bellona. Annie makes big blue eyes up at her as she passes, and Sylvain laughs softly and pushes her head down so they can kiss, and Annie is eager and insistent as always.</p>
<p class="p1">There’s definitely heat pooling in her belly by the time Annie lets her go, by the time Sylvain sits on the edge of the bed next to her. Goodness, she thinks. All day. They’ve probably decided she needs to come thirty-two times too, at least. She’s never done anything quite like this, but the thought’s warming her deep down inside.</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes sinks to her knees in the fuzzy carpet, next to Felix and Bellona, and steals a pet of sleep-warm cat, which he allows with a tiny soft smile. Then she folds her hands in her lap and puts her face on Sylvain’s knee for a moment, and he cups the nape of her neck tenderly.</p>
<p class="p1">“Your life is your own,” he murmurs, just as he always does, and loops the ribbon around her neck to tie it in a bow.</p>
<p class="p1">“And as long as I wear this, I give it to you,” she answers, just as she always does. It’s what’s felt best for them. He wants to give her the freedom to be her own person, never bound by adoption nor noble marriage; their wedding had been with a common village priest, no go-betweens, no family contracts. And she, in turn, wants to give him the knowledge that she trusts him, over and over, that he has permission to show his dominance in this new and carefully nurtured way, so different from all the harm he’d caused others and himself in the past. “For this day,” she adds, all new, “I give it to all of you.”</p>
<p class="p1">She hears Annette gasp, a tiny whimper of raw adoration, because it’s not like she doesn’t know their little ritual—she must have seen it a dozen times at least.</p>
<p class="p1">Sylvain nudges her head up with his knuckles under her chin, then cards fingers through her hair, and says, “And I accept it, because I love you.”</p>
<p class="p1">She turns his cheek into his hand and kisses his palm. “I love you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And,” Annette starts, a little hesitant, and neither of them stop her. “And I accept it, too, because I love you, can I say that?”</p>
<p class="p1">“‘Course you can,” Sylvain says, and leans over to kiss the top of her head. “You make Mercedes safe and happy. You always have. You can always say that.”</p>
<p class="p1">Annie’s smile turns entirely gooshy, and she hides her pink face in Sylvain’s shoulder for a moment, then stretches up to kiss his cheek.</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes reaches for her hand, to kiss it and say, too, “I love you,” and Annie squeals a little and leans over Felix to kiss her on the mouth.</p>
<p class="p1">“You too, Felix,” Sylvain says. “She said all of us.”</p>
<p class="p1">Felix’s brow furrows. “Wouldn’t that be weird?” It’s directed right at Mercedes, of course, after Annie is done kissing her, because he’s like that, always direct. It’s one of the things she likes about him, even when it’s also a lot to deal with. Annie puts her chin on his head as he talks.</p>
<p class="p1">“I did say all of you,” Mercedes says, and touches her ribbon-collar once, without particularly thinking about it. “But you don’t have to consider yourself to have power over me if you don’t want to. Whatever you’re comfortable with, Felix. Always.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I mean,” he says. “You too.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I am,” she says with a bit of a smile and blush, “to be ravished, apparently. I can be yours too for a day, if you like.”</p>
<p class="p1">His mouth twists a little, and his eyes dart away, and finally he says, “I’m Annette’s. Whatever she wants me to do for you. And I. Probably love you. One way or another.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” Mercedes squeaks, genuinely a little surprised. “I love you too, you know.”</p>
<p class="p1">Felix makes a slightly pained noise of resignation, and then melts a little under Annette’s chin as she makes another sound only dogs can hear and boops his nose. “That was so sweet of you, Felix! I’ll have to sing a little song for you later when I cane you. The Felix is being really sweet to Mercie song!” Boop, boop. Mercedes can’t help a smile, so helplessly bright that Sylvain pokes her in the cheek—she doesn’t usually smile so much that her dimples show.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, then,” Sylvain says, and there’s that little trickle of heat in his voice which means he’s thinking dirty thoughts, because dominant Sylvain is always dirty-thoughts Sylvain, at least with her. “Why don’t you take off your nightgown, pretty girl? I don’t think you’re going to need it anymore.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, dear,” Mercedes says with a sickly sweet giggle, still smiling. “Shall I throw it on the fire, Grandmother?”</p>
<p class="p1">Sylvain grins with teeth. “And then you might have to come closer so I can have a look at you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“My, what a big tongue you have,” Mercedes purrs, and starts peeling off her nightgown. Bellona, unfortunately, gets easily spooked by swirling fabric—she tries to be careful, but the poor dear still jitters out of Felix’s lap and scampers away, back arched.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” says Felix, bereft.</p>
<p class="p1">“All the better to eat you with,” Sylvain and Annette say in unison, him dripping innuendo, her beaming.</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes drops her nightgown in Felix’s lap.</p>
<p class="p1">“What, does this mean I’m the fire now,” Felix grumbles, and starts fidgeting with it, except the fidgeting is folding. Goddess, Annie really <em>has</em> trained him well. She’s got nothing on underneath, of course, nothing but her ribbon, and Annette clasps her hands and surveys her in delight, and Sylvain drags fingers through her hair with something like awe in his eyes.</p>
<p class="p1">“Hands behind your back, sweet girl,” he says, in a low voice that sends sparks low in her belly, and she clasps them there, low and pulling her shoulders back just how he likes—because it makes her breasts look nice. Both their eyes on her—and the occasional sidelong look from Felix—are dizzying. It usually takes her a while to slide under, always a measured sort of thing, but she’s falling fast, the world coming into bright tingling focus. For some people, it’s a haze. For Mercedes, it’s like being <em>alive</em>, so vivid it’s almost terrifying, cutting through the pleasant haze she’s wound around the rest of her life like cotton, like a cocoon.</p>
<p class="p1">Annette whispers something in Felix’s ear, and he reaches out, only a little hesitant, to fold his hand over hers. It’s gentle—she doesn’t like to be manhandled, but being held, that’s nice. Felix’s hand is burning warm and callused and strong, and she sighs and relaxes into his grip, and the light of the late spring morning is fire and glory through the windows, and all the colors of the world are so bright.</p>
<p class="p1">“Spanking now?” Annette asks.</p>
<p class="p1">“Nah,” says Sylvain. “Let’s get her up on the bed and make her come a few times first. She doesn’t like pain much, so let’s make sure she’s nice and warmed up.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Okay! I’m going to play with her titties.” Annette blinks, tilts her head. “I’m going to play with <em>your</em> tittes, Mercie. Is it weird if we talk about you like that?”</p>
<p class="p1">Mercedes blinks, looks down as Annie’s hand slides over her bare breast—she’s always been so excited about those. “I…don’t think so. Maybe don’t do it unless you have to?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Okay!” Annie says again, and Sylvain says, “Got it,” and then Annie is tweaking her nipple, and Felix leans in to kiss her ear, and Mercedes gasps and shivers and stops thinking about much at all.</p>
<p class="p1">“Thirty-two orgasms, minimum,” Sylvain says. “We’ve got all day, of course. Who wants to keep track?”</p>
<p class="p1">“You or me,” Felix says, breath hot against her ear. “Annette’s not gonna remember.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Felix, you big meanie,” Annie says, huffy. “I could keep a tally!”</p>
<p class="p1">“Are you going to stop to keep a tally when you’re,” Felix says, and doesn’t particularly need to finish it, because Annette is already half-gone from boobs.</p>
<p class="p1">“I think you’ve just volunteered, Felix,” Sylvain says. “I can’t remember my own name when I have my face buried in your pussy, darling.” That’s more aimed at Mercedes, and he gives a little gesture that she knows means <em>kneel up</em>, and Felix follows her lead because he speaks bodies much more fluently than he does words. It’s so he can kiss her, deep and ravishing now, and she melts into it with a delicious shiver, and his hand slides down her hip, and her whole skin lights up, dizzying. All three of them, touching her. Even just that is—is tremendous. She moans into Sylvain’s mouth, giddy, and she’s not usually very loud, and Annie can sneak her hands in to reach both her nipples now, and Felix is kissing her shoulders a little cautiously, and—</p>
<p class="p1">Goddess, she loves them. She loves them so much.</p>
<p class="p1">“Let’s make you feel amazing,” Sylvain murmurs against her lips as he breaks the kiss, fervent. “Let’s take care of you like you deserve. Our best girl. Happy, happy birthday, darling.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Their household has a total of nine cats. I <a href="https://twitter.com/letterblade">tweet</a>. Also, look, you know if Annette collared Felix, it would look something like <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/769355159/flora-adjustable-vegan-leather-kawaii?ga_order=most_relevant&amp;ga_search_type=all&amp;ga_view_type=gallery&amp;ga_search_query=bdsm+flower+collar&amp;ref=sr_gallery-1-1&amp;col=1">this</a> and he would wear it with utter pride.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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